Rose of DOOM
by Immortal Inheritance
Summary: Akiza is a member of the Arcadia Movement until events happen and she is thrown into the world of the Orichalcos. As she tries to weild the ancient power, she becomes attached to the three bikers.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I don't own anything. It's my first fanfic so please be nice.

Chapter 1

**It wasn't supposed to. The News report said that it was going to be another springy, happy day. The public pools would be so full the water would over flow from the pool. At the park hundreds of families would have a family picnic. Afterwards the kids would head over to the already overcrowded jungle gym. And the duels, all kids of all ages were dueling with all they had; their decks just as different as they were themselves. Everybody would be outside enjoying themselves. Nothing could ruin this day, that's what everyone thought. No one guessed that the warm air and clear skies would turn dark and cold. Then again, no one was to witness the duels that were taking place by the docks...**

It wasn't supposed to. The Weather people on the news reported that it was to be another springy, happy day. The public pools would be so full the water would spill over onto the parents trying to get a tan in. At the park dozens of families would have an annual family picnic or a family outing. Afterwards the kids would run to the already crowded jungle gym. And the duels; people of all ages would be dueling with everything they had, each of their decks as different as themselves. Everyone would be outside enjoying themselves. Nothing could ruin this day everyone thought. No one guessed that the warm air and clear skies would turn dark and cold. Then again, no one witnessed the duels that were taking place by the docks…

The cold rain fell relentless, showing no mercy on whom it fell on. The wind blew so hard it was hard for everybody to not give in and be blown away like everything else. Plastic bags got lucky from a day at work as they were tossed around in the air like leaves. As a gust of wind blew an umbrella away from a lady's grip—thus soaking her from head to foot in a matter of seconds—lightning clashed with the Earth, wanting to show off its destruction and danger. The light seemed to ricochet off the walls and the thunder echoed a powerful boom down the alleys. The lighting's iridescent light flashed through the streets, giving everybody a chill down their spines. The once calm day was marked in the record books for quickest storm to form. Meteorologists watched the land version of a hurricane and feared for the worst. As time went on the storm eased down until it was nothing more than cold rain and gusts of wind. Meteorologists stared at the computer monitors, stunned at what took place.

"It probably was just a cold front that pasted over us, and it collided with this warm front. Nothing more," the chief meteorologist said in a comforting voice. The other meteorologists nodded their heads and turned back to their work.

(? POV)

The raging storm calmed down as I sat down to do more paper work. To say papers were everywhere would be an understatement. Files of all kinds were tossed on my desk like the storm outside blew them there. Papers spewed out of their correct files and drifted into the wrong ones. Everything was an absolute mess. 'At least I've gotten two more psychic duelists to join the movement' I think to myself. Ever since then, it has been a lot of work. Getting paper work set up, signing paper work, getting them to sign paper work, and finally the hardest work; erasing their existence from the world. I wouldn't tamper with some files; that way the world knew that they did exist, but not enough to pull a fast one and find out where their current location is. It is very hard not to get caught sometimes.

I release a tired sign as I stuff the files in different folders and add them to my collection of hundreds. As I walk back to my desk I notice some of the paperwork and files are about one particular duelist. I quickly shuffle through the papers and put them into the destined folder. Of all the files I went through, hers appeared the most.

Out of all the duelists I had enlisted, none of them compared to the amount of skill she had. Skill comes and goes over the years but hers wasn't going anywhere. She was different from the other psychic duelists I had enrolled. Every teacher has its pet and she is mine. Her abilities set her far above the other students. She brought the movement to what it is today and where it stands. She was the key to everything. 'Without her none of this will be possible' I think to myself as I watch the last flash of lightning light up the sky.

(Akiza's POV)

The rain was freezing cold and unforgiving, just like me. As the rain kept pouring, a different storm kept brewing inside of me wanting to be let out. The cold raindrops hit my mask like hail hits a car, hard. My mask was probably the only thing that kept me sane when I was The Black Rose. My mask was like a wall that no one could see past. No one would know my identity or revel it for the whole world to know. Who would have guessed that a piece of plaster meant that much to me. Then again, no one really knows or understands me, except for Sayer.

While my mask showed no emotion on the outside, behind the mask my face did otherwise. Much like the lightning outside, images and memories flashed through my mind. They were something I didn't want to remember in my duels because that's when things started to get out of control. I tried to bury them inside of me along with the people who caused them in the first place. It is quite simple; my life is a rollercoaster that I can't get off. I need some way of a release, to somehow let it out of what's buried beneath escape. Sometimes that isn't even enough.

Just like today. I came here trying to let some of it out but I let it get out of control. It was so easy to do that, sometimes I almost preferred it. But of all the things I wish I had a grip on, my powers won hands down. I was so busy in my thoughts I didn't notice the last person I dueled was still there. He looks a mess to say the least. The rain had plastered his hair to his face and to his head. His clothes were ripped and soaked as they clung limply around his body. I had left three scars on his face; two on his cheek and one on his forehead. His body looks beaten and battered, but his eyes shown with determination.

"You really are a witch," he says before he limped off into the shadows. 'You really are a witch' echoed in my head along with the list of other names I have been called over the years of my life: witch, monster, freak and more. Even though I was The Black Rose, the one who didn't care about anything, "witch" stung worse than the others.

I felt so suffocated this afternoon, I just couldn't take it. I felt so cramped for not having a duel in weeks till finally I cracked. I grabbed my deck, duel disk, robes, and mask and headed out towards the docks. 'Sayer will understand' I thought to myself. The docks were a place where I personally liked to hang out. I liked to watch the boats come in and unload; the seagulls also provided some sort of entertainment. As I approached the docks, I noticed a couple of people hanging around. They were just walking around, looking board out of their wits. Seeing this as a chance to blow off some steam I put on my robes and pull out my head piece, letting my hair fall in front of my face. I then put on my mask and strap on my duel disk.

After that things got blurry. I was so out of control with my powers it even surprised me. The worst part was that I couldn't stop. To me, there is just something about seeing another person's pain; to know they're suffering like me. People like me would be labeled names that don't even describe us. They weren't me. Somebody had to pay for all the suffering I had gotten over the years, even if they were innocent. Everybody had to feel what I went through my childhood: abandonment, rejection, and pain (and a lot of it). Some people might call me cruel, a victim of the world, or just plain sick. Hey, they weren't me.

And I was glad for that. No one else could have stood to watch when my first opponent's life points hit zero. His face was twisted in pain and gave me the satisfaction of knowing I inflicted the same pain I felt and went through. By then the storm was already getting out of hand. It seemed like every time I summoned a monster the rain would pour harder or if I used a spell or trap card the winds would pick up around sixty miles per hour. During the storm's fury, I watched as my powers seemed to set off or even evoke nature itself. After I had beaten the teenager another guy challenged me. Not for bragging rights, not for glory, and not for the satisfaction of knowing he beat me. He challenged me because he wanted to put an end to my wicked ways, or so he said. His words seemed to sink in for a moment before I shook it off and dueled him. What a duel it was too. Things were even more hectic than the first duel. There was lighting flashing across the horizon and thunder vibrating beneath our feet; all because of three words, Black Rose Dragon. I didn't need to, I knew I could win without her but I couldn't help it. To see her majestic form stand up to the storm and to hear her roar along with the thunder; absolutely beautiful and dangerous. After I summoned her the duel was over. And I think we both knew that.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- I don't own anything.

Chapter 2

(Akiza's POV)

I didn't always have my powers. A lot of people think I was a witch from the start, but I wasn't. I was very normal and like every other little girl out there. I had dreams I wanted to fulfill latter on in life. I liked wearing skirts and dresses and I played pretend like all the other kids. Whenever I dueled I didn't inflict pain like I do now. It was my father that was the problem. You see, he was the Senator. You're probably thinking that's not so bad, right? Wrong. Since my father was a very important man, he was always gone or working. He always left before dawn and never came home until late at night. My mom got used to it, but I never did. I just thought I wasn't important and didn't matter to him since any attention I received from him was little. You just couldn't explain this to a little girl.

One of the memories I remember the most was my 7th birthday. I was so excited, finally thinking I was a big girl now, but then I thought that every year. I sat in the kitchen watching my mother bake my birthday cake. It was going to be chocolate with vanilla frosting, my favorite. After I helped my mom frost the cake – I also licked the spoon but she doesn't need to know that—my mom out lined the cake with strawberries and wrote happy birthday in pink frosting. I couldn't wait for my father to get home and see the cake. I followed mom as she set the cake on the coffee table in the living room. I then sat down on the couch, waiting for my dad.

After a while, my mom called my dad and handed me the phone. "Hello," replied a tired voice.

"Hello Daddy," I replied in a sing song voice. "Do you think you will be able to make it tonight," I asked, almost not daring to know the answer.

"Of course, I picked out a special present for you Akiza. I'm sure you'll love it."

"What is it," I asked in an excited voice.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise," he said in a joking manner. I found no use to pry, he wouldn't tell me anyways. I then heard muffed voices on the other end. Probably his coworkers and assistants I thought to myself sourly, but keep a cheery frontier. My father then started talking again, this time in a hurried manner. "Akiza, daddy has very important work to do, I'll see you tonight." The phone went dead in my hand and I just stared at it. The monotone beep sounded from the phone, seeming to mock my sorrow. I then hopped off the couch and headed into the kitchen. My mom was fiddling around with the pots and pan when I handed her the phone. 'She must be getting ready to make my birthday dinner' I thought to myself.

"What did your father say," my mother said while filling a large pot with water, while said pot was getting very heavy. I saw the package of noodles on the counter by the stove, along with the aroma of my favorite sauce. I put two and two together and knew that she was making my favorite food, spaghetti with meatballs.

"He said he would be here tonight," I said in a cheery voice.

"Well won't that be nice," my mother said with a smile, "we'll be able to have a nice family dinner again." I gave her my biggest and rarest grin and helped her set the table for dinner. After I put all the placemats, and silverware on the table – my mom handled the more delicate stuff – I helped mother with mixing the meatballs in the noodles and sauce. My mother and I then playfully fought over who would get the most meatballs; I eventually won since I was the birthday girl.

We waited for more than twenty minutes until my mom sadly stated that we should start without him. I was reluctant at first, wanting more than anything to start dinner with him, but gave in eventually to my mother's reasoning. The spaghetti was probably amazing as usual, but for some reason the dinner just seemed to taste fowl in my mouth. Like my food, an empty feeling of dread sat in my stomach. Dinner was very quiet, almost like no one existed in our house. I tried to tell myself that we were just listening for when dad came home. 'He'll be home any minute' I thought to myself, trying as hard as I could not to lose hope. When we were finished with our food, we just stared at our plates, as if forbidding their very presence. I looked very much like a deflated balloon and my mom just looked glum. Before I could say anything she stood up and collected the dirty dishes and started putting them in the sink, meaning she was going to start washing them. I quickly collect my dishes and handed them to her. "Since it's your birthday tonight, you don't have to help with the dished tonight," she said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. I nodded and headed out into the living room.

"Akiza," my mother called, her voice echoing off the walls, "Do you want your piece of cake now or later?"

"I'll have it when dad comes home," I replied, suddenly not feeling hungry for my birthday cake. I silently sulked over to the couch and sat on it. An hour passed by and that time I was already fast asleep. I was on the floor with my head and arms resting on the coffee table right next to my birthday cake. About thirty minutes later my father comes running through the door and hands my mother his briefcase before running into the living room, my mother in close pursuit. My father ran over to my side looking to see if I was by any chance awake. With great disappointment running through him he gently picked me so he would not wake me. His actions reminded me of how one would treat their most delicate and prized possession. By what happened tonight, I knew I wasn't.

He carried me bridle style up to my room. He walked me slowly walked over to my small bed. He the gently pushed back the rose colored covers and laid me in my bed. Then he pulled the covers up to my chest. He kneeled beside my bed, a look of sorrow and disappointment on his worried faced. "I'm so sorry Akiza," he said in a mourning voice. He then placed a small, delicately wrapped box on my wooden nightstand, waiting to be opened. He walked out of my room slowly, closing the door as silently as he could so he wouldn't wake me. Another disappointment added to my life.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Hey guys! I know i haven't updated in like, A YEAR! I just got busy and forgot about this story. I am thinking of writing this as a part time thing, because now my other story, May it be, is my top priority now. When i finish that one, i am sure i will work on this more. **

**Also you won't hear or see anything of DOOM at the moment, it will be a couple more chapters till the encounter. So if you guys are patient with me, i sure this will be awesome!**

**disclaimer I don't own anything**

* * *

Chapter 3

(Akiza's POV)

Sunlight streams through the pained windows as the sun begins to ascend into the sky, pulling me out of my deep sleep. I roll over and pull the covers over my head, trying to block the dreaded light. That doesn't help either because at that same time the alarm went off. Since I can't block out the sunlight or the sound I give up. The rising of the sun means the start of another day. I gently pull the covers off, letting the sun bathe me with its sunlight. I force myself to sit up and while doing so, squint at the open window that dared to open its blinds and wake me. I am not one of those people who labeled themselves 'not a morning person', but I don't like it when I am rudely interrupted from a deep sleep by that blasted sphere we call a sun. This is why I strongly dislike the idea of the Arcadia Movement covered in glass panels.

It does have its perks though. It has an amazing view over the entire city. Since the Arcadia Movement building is twenty stories high, we pretty much towered over the city. In the daytime, the sun's glare would bounce off the buildings windows and I would have to shield my eyes or else I would be blinded. Then again, what would you expect from a town mostly made of metal and glass structures. At night though it was a different story; the sun would be gone with the moon and stars to replace it. Sometimes though it was hard to see all the stars because of all the city lights. The neon lights and signs would glow and contrast against the dark, all in multiple colors that took your breath away. There are moving lights that seem to dance in front of arcades and restaurants. Some were also put in front of signs so that the people could read them at night. Also the other skyscrapers were visible in the distance as well. The Kaiba Corp one stood out the most because it was the tallest. The towering building seemed to loom over the city like a fortress. It was the stars though, that I like the most. When they are visible, they give me a feeling I just can't describe. Maybe it is because somewhere in the world, somebody else was seeing the same thing I was.

I swing my legs over the bed and stand up to stretch, already progressing on my daily routine. I walk over to my small bathroom and close the oak door behind me. I walk across the white tiled floor and make my way over to the bathroom closet. I open it up and grab two white towels: one for my body and the other for my hair. I then set them on the sink and make my way over to the shower and turn on the warm water and step inside. While some people liked to take showers at night, I preferred mine in the morning. The warm water seems to loosen my muscles and get me ready for the day. After I finish my much needed shower I step out into the open and feel cold instantly. I groan internally, I forgot to turn on the fans. It was so foggy I almost couldn't find my towels. As soon as I do, I wrap the biggest one around my body and twist the other one in my hair. I quickly walk back into my room and head to my main closet.

After picking out my usual red trench coat dress I go over to my jewelry box and pick out my red chocker and my cross-shaped necklace. After I get that settled out, focus on what to do with my hair. It was a chin-length that sort of flared out at the sides, which I like. It was my bangs that were the main problem. My bangs would be about probably one foot long if I let them down and wore them that way. I let my two longest bangs—one on each side—hang down while I curled my other bangs in a sort of head piece that looked like a curler and doubled as a restrainer for my powers. After fixing my hair I walk out of the bathroom and see breakfast on my desk. Every morning Seri brought my breakfast up to my room. I didn't really understand why but when I asked her she said it was Sayer's orders. Since she is so quiet I usually didn't hear her when she comes in, then again I'm usually in the bathroom at that time. Since I didn't want to be late for class I started eating right away. Every morning the main dish was something different, but the sides were usually the same. So it was no surprise that I saw eggs, bacon, toast, yogurt and orange juice staring right back at me. After downing the last of my orange juice I get up and stack the dishes on the tray. Seri usually gets the dishes during class so I didn't have to worry about that.

After seeing that it was 7:51 I quickly grab my books and notebooks and head out the door, making sure to take my key with me. I then walk down the pristine hallways and make my way to the elevator which was trimmed in red and gold borders (the Arcadia Movement's colors). I pushed the down button and waited patiently for it to come up. At this time it is usually rush hour for all the students since all the classes begin at 8:00 sharp. As the minutes go by, a couple more students join me in waiting for the elevator. After what seems like an hour the elevator arrived and we all pile in and since I was in the front I did the honors by pressing the fifth floor button. I turn around and see that the clock read 7:56. It only took a minute for the elevator to hit the fifth floor and as I walk out calmly others rush past me, not wanting a lecture from the teachers.

I walk down about three hallways before I reach my home room. It is a relief to say the least because four times now I almost got run over by students who were running to the elevator—some of the other classes were on the sixth floor—knowing that they wouldn't make it in time. As I walk in my classroom I notice about half of the students are still not here. Not wanting to be run over again, I walk over to my desk in the front. The cool thing about how the desks were set up was that I didn't have to worry about seeing over somebody's big head. They were kind of set up like stairs; the first six desks were on the first step, and then the next set of desks were on the second step and so on. I felt sorry for the people whose desks were at the top since they had to walk up a lot of stairs. The teacher's desk was located at the front of the room, which was in front of a large smart board (which was filled with notes). Since finals were nearly upon us we are having so many notes and assignments to write. We all experience nearly about, oh I don't about five hand cramps per class. Yeah, it is worse than what we thought it was going to be.

That's right, we have finals here to. Since we aren't really supposed to leave the Arcadia Movement—we can, we aren't prisoners it's just that we can't leave often—all of the members have their "school here"; that way we wouldn't have to leave the movement so often. Even though I like the teachers and the classes were like the other schools, I wanted to know what it would be like if I went to a public school. What would the teachers be like and would the classes be as boring as most movies portray them? I had gone to a public school before but that was before I got my powers. My mother and father had sent me to a private duel academy one when I was thirteen years old. It did not end well. I tried not to think about it as much as I could, but sometimes it just comes up.

The classes I have here are like the other entire subject at other schools. I have English combined with Literature, Chemistry, Geometry, World History, and a study hall. We usually don't have much homework but with all the finals taking place it's almost unbearable. It's like in the last three months all the teachers want to cram, pound and stuff all their information in our heads. Some of the other students are starting to plead the 8th amendment saying it's unlawful to give out cruel and unusual punishments.

Lunch takes place in the cafeteria after Geometry; the tables are polished as usual and if you looked carefully enough, you can see your reflection. The floors are usually waxed twice a month so that they gleamed in the sunlight. So basically if there was an accident it was usually because someone slipped on the waxed floors. It has only happened once or twice in the past. The people were also better than ones at public schools, I think. Students in their groups didn't try and out talk the table right next to them. There also wasn't a person—thank god for this—who thought if he belched the loudest he would get the Nobel Prize. People chattered quietly in their groups and eat their food in a civil manner. I, however, like to eat by myself since I have my social problems. People figured I wasn't a people person and just left me alone, which is fine like me.

After I finish my lunch of a salad and fruit I put my tray up and go back to my classroom to grab my stuff. Since I usually finished first I was usually the first in World History. After I collect my books and say goodbye to my teacher I head over to the elevator. I pressed the up button and almost immediately it opens. 'First come, first serve' I think to myself as I press the sixth floor button. A half minute later a small ding goes off as the doors open and I head out to my class room. Since it was just down the hallway I didn't have to ponder much where I had to go. As I open the door I notice as usual, I was the first person here. The teacher, Mr. Roper, was writing what looked like an impossibly long list of notes that we students will have to write. I walk over to my seat and take all of my stuff out.

I usually get A's in this class so I am not too worried about failing. My favorite subject is English/Lit. I didn't mind English but I preferred Literature. Since I was usually left alone I am able to get a lot of reading done. Sometimes I can almost imagine the characters and the plot forming in my head. My two favorite things to do is dueling and reading. I know, sounds funny right? The Black Rose reads? Well I do. As the teacher abandons the notes for some papers more students file in. They chat idly among themselves as they walk over to their seats. As soon as they sat down they groan, me along with them. Those papers Mr. Roper had must have been more notes because as soon as he put them down on his desk, he wrote MORE notes. I think it is safe to say that we will run out of paper before we get these notes done.

"Mr. Roper, I think I sprained my wrist today and I don't think it would be wise for me to write," one of the boys said from the back row.

"Then just write with the other one," Mr. Roper replied in a tired voice, not even looking up from the notes.

"Uh, I sprained that one too!" he tried again.

"You sprained both of your wrists in one day," he dead planted, "let me guess, you got into another fight."

"Not my fault the guy knew what he was doing," he muttered, knowing he lost, again. 'I wish I had an excuse, 'think to myself, 'because this is going to be a long day.'

"Mr. Carter would you believe me if I told you my hand just cramped?" he tried again. 'A very long day.'


End file.
